


Date

by ShatteredGlassHouse



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, F/M, Fluff, Little bit of angst, Romance, Smut, slight miscommunication, that's a first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredGlassHouse/pseuds/ShatteredGlassHouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint's got a date, but it's not with Natasha.  She's not too happy about that, but in the end, it just might work out in her favour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Date

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and finally found the time to edit and smooth over all the rough patch.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel nor any of their characters. 
> 
> This was beta by the lovely pure-black-wings ! Thank you so much!

_hear you're going on a date tonight?”_   Clint frowned down at his phone as he read Natasha’s text.  Confusion coloured his face as he typed out a quick reply.

_“How did you hear that?”_ He didn’t have time to slide his phone back into his pocket before it was chiming again.

_“Banner told me.” - NR_

Of course.  Despite telling the doctor not to say anything to anyone, “good news” doesn’t stay much of a secret at Stark Tower.  He’s just thankful it hadn’t been Tony.  However, if it had been Tony, he would have heard about it before Natasha had.

_“Damn,”_ he typed back,  _“I knew I shouldn't have said anything around him.”_   He glanced over to his left where Tony had entered the room, giving a saucy, flirty wink.

It was about two minutes before Natasha responded this time.  Come to think about it, he really didn’t know where the former Russian spy was.

_“What you do mean?” –NR_

Clint shot Stark an unimpressed face as he made some offhanded comment about finally “getting it on”, but “[Romanoff](http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Natasha%20Romanov/works) scared you off?”

_“Tony’s just being an ass.”_

_“Who are you going on a date with, Barton?_ ” –NR

That was the question he wasn’t exactly happy to answer.  It wasn’t like it should matter though.  He was going out with Maria Hill.  It’s not like he was going out with just a random girl, which is what Natasha always warned him about doing.

_"Hill..."_   he simply wrote.  Not half a minute later Natasha’s reply came through.

_“You're going on a date with Maria?”_  –NR 

This was the problem with texting.  Unless it was in upper case letters with a bunch of explanation marks behind it, it was impossible to tell what Natasha’s true reaction was.  Even then, a reply like that could mean she was screaming with excitement or anger.  Usually it was the latter since Natasha never shared too many emotions.

With this reply, she could be pissed, uninterested, happy or simply just asking a question.  He seriously doubted it was the first one.  She wouldn’t be pissed.  She hardly cared what he did in his personal life as long as it didn’t end with his life. 

Sometimes he wished she did though.  It wasn’t exactly a secret that he was harbouring a slight crush on his best friend.   It happened long before New York, but became more evident after she was the one who fought to break him from Loki’s spell.

And it wasn’t like he was doing the best job at hiding it.  Pepper had called him out on it, well, Tony had, where Pepper soothing admitted that they basically all knew.  So that meant either Natasha didn’t feel the same way and was politely ignoring it to save his feelings or she honestly didn’t know.  Speaking from personal experience, he knew Natasha’s observation skills were too sharp to not notice.  But it helped ease the small jab of pain that coursed through him at the thought of his friend not returning his feelings.

His phone went off again with a second message from Natasha.

_“Why?”_  –NR 

He furrowed his brows as he read the one word.  That was unexpected.  He had expected more of a “Didn’t know she was your type” or a “Did she put a gun to your head?”

_“She asked me.”_

She had cornered him in the gym after a training session and had asked if he would like to go for dinner.  He didn’t have an excuse to decline, so he found himself suggesting a small cafe that he enjoyed going to on his days off.

_“Great.”_  –NR

This time, despite the technical communication, he could sense the sarcasm.

_“Are you okay?”_   It was a pointless question since her last reply suggested that she wasn’t.

_“Yeah. Totally fine.”_  –NR

_“Come on, Nat.”_   He could sense this heading to a fight.  When Nat didn’t want to talk, she made it very evident and very difficult to get anywhere.   _“You’ve been sarcastic with me ever since I mentioned Hill.”_

He could almost sense the eye roll as he read Nat’s text.   _“No, I'm fine.”_ –NR

This was confusing.  In the time that they have spent working at S.H.I.E.L.D, Natasha had never shown any distaste for the Deputy Director. 

_“Come on, Nat; don't be like this.”_

_“I've gotta go.  I'll text you later.”_  –NR

Now Clint knew something was up.  She never cut off their conversations this abruptly unless she was in the middle of a mission, which he knew she wasn’t.  He just saw her today before lunch—before agreeing to dinner with Hill.

_“Nat...”_   he tired futilely _.  “Come on.”_

Five minutes went by and still no reply.  He tried again.   _"Nat, please talk to me."_   

It was impossible.  If Nat didn’t want to be bothered, she would make sure it was next to impossible to reach her.

He sighed and tossed his phone onto the glass coffee table before sinking onto the couch.  Six minutes later, he phone finally chimed again.

_“Text me when your date is over.” –NR_

Clint smirked and decided to play with this a little bit.   _“You're not jealous, are you? ;)”_   He knew how much Natasha hated emoji’s, nearly wringing Tony out the day he had decided to text entirely in the little icons.

_“Don't be ridiculous, Barton. And emoticons are ridiculous, by the way.”_  –NR

He let out a short laugh and smirked.  He knew her too well.  In fact, he knew her more than he’s sure she knows.  He paid attention to the slightest deail; even it’s the way she would roll her eyes when Tony said something stupid.

_“Doesn't sound like it the way you’re acting.”_ He was getting a little cheeky, though he’s not sure if Natasha was reading it that way.

_“Yeah, headache. Talk to you later.” –NR_

_“Come on Nat.  I'm sorry.”_ He sighed heavily and tried to find where he went wrong this time?

Natasha’s reply came seconds later.

_“You don't need to be.”_  -NR

_“Nat, I know you.  Quit being short with me.”_ Again, he was met with no reply.  He waited ten minutes before trying again.

_“Fine.  I'll talk to you when I get back. I have to get ready.”_ It was a little harsh, but he hoped with would prompt Natasha to fire back.  It didn’t.

*****

Natasha was sitting in her room, curled up in bed when she heard Barton return.  She was beyond upset. Maria knew how Natasha felt about Clint and yet, she asked him out anyways.

“Natasha?” Clint called out, stopping in front of her door before knocking lightly.

“Yeah?” She grumbled, voice muffled by the pillow she had pulled over her head.

There was silence for a split second before Clint’s voice cut through the quiet.  “Are you in there?”

The woman groaned and threw the pillow aside, staring up at the blank ceiling.  “Yeah, go away.”

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before the archer spoke again.  “Come on Nat!  You said you'd talk to me later; it's later. Open up!”  Clint’s voice sounded tired and irritated.

“It's open.”  She sighed, mouth settling into a frown.

Clint opened the door slowly and peeked in. "Hey, why do you look so upset? Did something happen while I was out?"

“No, I'm fine.  I told you-” she turned her head, looking in her friend’s direction, “-I have a headache.”

Clint smirked, but it didn’t stay long.  “Come on, Nat, you're my best friend.  Talk to me.”  He walked into the room and stood at the foot of her bed, staring down at her.

“I have a headache.”  She locked eyes with him, narrowing them slightly.  She couldn’t help but let her eyes wander a bit.  He looked so casual in his grey button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, displaying his muscled forearms, defined from years of archery.  He was also wearing a pair of black jeans, hugging his thighs sinfully.

Shit.  She was staring.  She scoffed to hide her lapse of control and turned her gaze back to the ceiling.  If Clint noticed her staring, he didn’t comment on it.

“C’mon, Nat.  Stop with the lying. I know when-” he was cut off by another female voice.

“Clint are you in there?” Agent Hill then peered her head through the doorway of Natasha's bedroom.

Natasha's eyes narrowed even further. “Middle of a talk, Maria,” she snapped.  “Bad timing.”

“Oh sorry,” she replied sheepishly, not trying too hard to sound apologetic.  “I was just looking for Clint.”  She then turned herself towards the other agent.  “I was just wondering if we could finish our talk.”  Hill then placed her hand on the man’s bicep, smiling sweetly at him.

“No, Barton's a little busy,” the red-headed woman snapped.  She wanted her gone; wanted Clint to tell her to go.

“Um...” Clint stuttered.  “I'm kind of talking to Agent Romanoff.”  He wasn’t stupid and could tell the two women in the room were subtly fighting with each other.  Well, it wasn’t so subtle if you took in the stare off they were having.

“Please, I really wanted to just finish what we started.”   She moved in closer to Clint and tried to lead the agent out of the door, all the while giving Natasha a sly, smug smile.

An equally smug grin crossed Natasha's lips. “I believe he's spoken, Maria.  Now, if you'll please leave my room?”  She was feeling triumphant for having won this one, except, the fire was quickly put out as soon as Clint spoke again.

“Uh, Natasha I'll be right back.”  He hoped that the look he gave Natasha told her he was only go to talk to Maria for a moment, but he missed the smug look Agent Hill flashed at Natasha as they left the room.

Her arms crossed over her chest.  Natasha was livid. That wasn't fair. She was supposed to be the most important in his life.  They have been close since the day he brought her from Budapest.  She remembered the way he had been there for her.  How he would talk to her when no one else would.

As Clint and Maria walked out of Natasha's room, they passed Bruce.  Barton ducked his head as soon as he met Bruce’s questioning stare.

Banner glanced at the duo, furrowing his brows.  From what Clint had told him earlier he was only going out with Agent Hill to get her to back off.  It was clear that the archer had feelings for his partner, but why was still with Agent Hill? Clint had told him just before he left for his 'date' that once he got back he was going to talk to Natasha.  He had even texted him asking if he knew where Natasha was.

Thinking of Natasha, Bruce realized that he hasn't seen the Russian assassin all night except briefly at dinner. He decided to check up on her and saw her door was open.

“Natasha?” he asked softly as he knocked.  “May I come in?”

“Yeah, whatever.  Come in.”  She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Hey, it’s all ri—are you crying?”  Bruce hadn’t noticed it before but Natasha’s eyes looked a little wet.  He cautiously walked into her room and to her bed.   “Do you mind if I sit?”

“I wasn't crying. Just got something in my eyes. Yeah, sit.”  Natasha nodded.

“What's wrong?”  Bruce took a seat at the foot of her bed and turned his head to look down at her.  “We haven't seen you all night.  Did you see Clint come in?”  He had a slight idea he knew why Natasha was upset, but didn't dare say it out loud. He valued his life too much to tick off the Russian lying on the bed next to him.  “You know you can always talk to me.”

“Yeah.”  She sighed and stared down at the dark blue comforter beneath her.  “He came in and left with Hill,” she spat.  She was livid at this point and didn't want to talk about it anymore. She didn't want to do anything, just sleep. 

“I thought he didn-” Bruce had been about to admit before catching himself.  Clint had to be the one say it.  “I heard he was going to talk to you. Did he?”

“He came in for a few moments and then left.”

“Oh really?” Bruce had to try hard and hide his excitement.  Judging by Natash tone though, the conversation didn’t go where he had hoped it would have.  “What did he say?  I didn't get a chance to talk to him and ask how his date went.”  Shit.  That was the wrong thing to say.  He was going to pay for that one.  It was probably going to involve boxing gloves and the former assassin’s legs wrapped around his neck in a death grip.  But, if he got Natasha to finally admit her feelings then that would be worth the broken bones.

“He didn't tell me anything, Bruce!  Why the hell do you care?” the woman snapped.

“Well, I saw Clint walk by with Agent Hill and he looked like he'd rather be anywhere than with her.”  Hopefully that would be the much needed push.

“Good.”  She smirked, a little too vicious for her thoughts to be innocent.  “She obviously thinks he wants her.”

“Natasha, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you are happy about this," Bruce teased.

“Not happy... But not sad either.”

“Well, that's better.  If you want I'll-” Bruce didn't get to finish his sentence as he was cut off by another voice.

“Nat, may I come in again?”  It was Clint and he didn't have Agent Hill attached to his arm.   “Oh, Bruce,” Clint’s tone flattened slightly at the sight of Banner.  “Sorry.  I didn't know you were in here.”

Bruce stood up from the bed with a big, smug smile.  “Don't worry about it Clint, I was just leaving. Goodnight Natasha,” Bruce said and patted Clint on the back before stepping out of the room.

Natasha rolled her eyed, peering up at Clint. “Hurry up with it.”

"Natasha, I... I." Clint stumbled.  “Shit.”   He ran a hand through his short, dark blond hair.  “First, I want to say sorry for what just happened with Maria.  I just didn't want her to bother us again.”  He smiled sheepishly at her.

“What the hell did she want?  Shot me a look smug as hell when you went off with her.”  She narrowed her eyes.

Clint groaned and suppressed the urge to throw his eyes.  “Damn it, Natasha.”  Yet he didn’t have the strength to keep his voice levelled, letting it raise just a notch.  “What the fuck is with you?  Ever since I told you I was going out with Hill you have been acting weird and it's pissing me off.”

Natasha growled, gritting her teeth.  How could he not see it?  It wasn’t like she was being obvious of her feelings towards her best friend, but he was a trained agent, he should have been able to read the small signs that she allowed to show. 

“Because she knows that I... She knows how I feel about you.  Christ! Barton!”  There: she said it.  Wasn’t exactly how she had wanted to, but it was done and there was no going back.  Shit.

Clint was silent, letting the former assassin’s words sink in.  He wasn’t expecting such a blunt answer. With Natasha, he’d always had to fight the answers out of her.

“Um.  Uhh.”  She stared at the man with a rare look of shock and worry.  Her eyes were slightly wide as she nodded her head.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temples. Damn it, she hadn't meant to say that.  The reality of what she had just done was rapidly sinking in.

“Hey,” Clint said softly, getting over his initial surprise.  This was Natasha—when didn’t she surprise him?  He walked closer to her so they were now only a few inches apart.  “What are those feelings?”  He mentally held his breath, hoping that they secretly shared the same feelings.

“I don't know.  I'm going to bed, Clint.”  She sighed, rolling over.

There she was, getting scared again.  While he knew how strong the woman was, Natasha was terrified of opening herself up.  She hid behind a wall, carefully choosing what she wanted to share.  When she shared too much, she would close herself up, pushing those around her away.

“Natasha, please don't close me off.”  Clint leaned over her on the bed.  He tenderly touched her arm, letting his fingers run over her soft and warm flesh.

The agent sighed and looked over Clint’s shoulder.  She couldn’t do this while meeting his piercing stare.  “She knows that I care about you.”

Her voice was distant and soft.

Clint was shocked, but quickly schooled his features.  If he looked gobsmacked Natasha would close herself off again, thinking she had said something wrong.

“Good.”  His voice was a little strained, but his smile was wide and sincere.  “It'll make doing this easier...”   He gently cupped Natasha's face and turned her towards him.  He took a shaky breath before pressing his lips to hers.

Scared of the emotion, Natasha whimpered against his lips.  There was a moment of hesitation, and just as Clint was about to pull back, fearing that he had acted irrationally, she kissed him back.  She sat up straighter, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulled him forward.  She wanted him and badly.

Clint gently pushed her down on the bed and moved himself so he was now hovering over her; never once breaking their kiss.

Her left arm stayed wrapped around his neck, while her right slid down his shoulder and over his chest.

He shifted himself so that he has straddling her, both legs placed firmly by her hips.  Natasha grabbed at his side, pulling his body against her.  He was warm and his weight on her felt wonderful.

The archer grunted quietly and deepened the kiss.  He pulled her hip towards him with one hand, while the other was placed on the bed by her head, keeping his balance.

Her mouth fell open in a moan, giving him access.  Her hips pressed against his, rolling against him gently.

The male agent grunted again, this time more loudly.  He pulled his head back, breaking the kiss.  He sat up and moved both hands to the hem of her t-shirt, slightly rolling it up and caressing her soft skin.

Natasha smirked, “I'm hoping this means you told Maria to go home?”

Clint smirked and stared at Natasha hungrily.  Fuck, she looked sexy with her hair mussed, skin slightly flushed and lips swollen from the intensity of their kiss.  “Told her to stay out of my way,” he replied, and placing his lips back on hers.

“Why?” she wondered aloud, letting her voice drag off into a small moan as Clint began to suck gently at her neck.

“Because she was getting in the way of us,” Barton murmured as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin over her pulse point. “I only went out with her because she was practically begging me all week.”  He pulled back this time to meet Nat’s eyes.  “I told her yes and then to not ask again. She's not you, Nat.”  Clint said, not once breaking eye contact.

“So... does that mean that you want me, Barton?”  She winked as she shifted her hips up, brushing her knee over his inner thigh.

“Always so smug, but yes.”  Clint grinned before kissing her again.  He could get lost in this feeling alone.  He’d be lying if he didn’t think about this at night at least once a week.  And if he had one or two dreams about the fierce red-head coming to his bed, well, he just might share that with Nat... Much later.

“How much?” she prompted, interested in what Clint would do.  So far he was being completely gentle with her, while slowly teetering towards demanding.  She wanted to make him take the plunge.   She ran her hands up his chest, letting her nails scrape against the thin fabric of his shirt.  The top two buttons were undone, giving her limited access to his tanned, tone chest.

Her friend’s eyes turned noticeably darker and a quiet growl rumbled in the back of his throat.  He roughly grabbed Natasha's hip and pulled them against his. “Does this answer your question?”   He grinded his growing erection against Natasha’s crotch.

“Christ, Barton,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

Clint grinned wickedly and lowered his head back to her neck.  He liked the sound of her moaning his name.  It sent a shiver down his body, which went straight to his rapidly swelling cock.  He moved his hand down to her shirt and pushed it up further, just under her breast. He looked into her eyes as if to ask for permission.

Natasha nodded with a laugh.  “Yes, Barton. You can touch,” she teased.

“Not funny,” Clint grunted.  He continued to pull the black material up and over head, with a little help. His eyes slowly raked over her torso and fixed his eyes on her black lace bra. “Lace? I never thought you'd be the type,” he teased as he ran a hand up her side and gently cupped her right breast.  He ran  is thumb over her nipple, feeling it harden under his touch.

The woman moaned again, body shivering at his touch.  “My God, Clint...” she gasped.  She wasn't sure why this all felt so good but she wanted him, needed him.

“Tell me what you want, Nat,” Clint said huskily as he continued to play with her chest.

“I want you. I want you to touch me; I want you inside of me.” She moaned.

Clint sat up quickly undoing the buttons of his shirt before discarding it somewhere on the floor.  He leaned down to kiss her again and deepened the kiss even further as he worked his hand to her pants.

One of Nat's legs hitched up around his waist, pulling him to her.  “I love you, Barton.”  It seemed meaningless to let the confession slip as Clint was busy nibbling at her jaw.  He’d probably think it was a slip in the moment.  Plus, it wasn’t like this didn’t know they loved each other, it was just... It wasn’t  _that_ love anymore.

Clint pulled back and looked her in the eyes.  Did she just say she loved him? Did Natasha Romanoff just admit a major feeling, willingly? Coming to his senses Clint looked her in the eyes and repeated the confession:  “I love you, too, Nat.”

Natasha cupped his cheek, just looking at him for a bit, shaking her head.  “I love you,  _Clint_ ,” She rephrased her words.

Clint grinned stupidly.  The words sent a jolt to his heart, increasing his heart rate.  He finally pushed her pants down her legs, tossing them carelessly on the floor.  He was more interested in feeling Natasha beneath his touch, squirming and withering.  He stroked up her legs, to her thighs, and then grabbed her hips, grinding down harder this time. The sudden confession of love had made Clint that much more possessive of her and wanted her to feel as good as she deserved.

The woman gasped, her hands twisting in the sheets beneath her.  “God,” she laughed breathlessly, “what has gotten into you?”

“The fact than now you are mine,” Clint practically growled.  The archer moved his mouth to her neck and started to suck; he wanted to mark her so everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D knew she was now his, more importantly for Maria to back the fuck off.

“Oh?” she vocalized.  “I'm yours?”  She gasped, arching her back as she felt his mouth latch onto the exposed skin of her right breast.  She could certainly tell he was marking his territory.

“Yes. You. Are,” he punctuated between kisses.

“Well, if I'm going to be anyone's, I'm glad it's you.”  She laughed, her hips grinding against his.

Clint felt so much pride knowing that he was the only one Natasha wanted to be with now. He slowly moved his fingers along and playing with the waistline of her panties.

“Tease,” she hissed, rolling her hips up again.  “I want you, now.”  She could already feel the wetness that had seeped through the thin material of her undergarments, and she had no doubt that Clint could feel it too.

The agent smirked and reached a hand behind is lover, skilfully unclasping her bra. He tossed it behind him, not longer caring once he caught sight of Natasha's bare chest rising up and down as her breathing laboured.

Back arching, Natasha pushed her breasts up to him.  “Please, touch me, Clint.”  She reached up, dragging her nails over Clint’s now bare chest.  He shivered as white lines marred his tan skin.  “Clint.”

The man obliged; he cupped one breast as he bent his head down and pulled the other nipple into his mouth.

She closed her eyes tightly, letting out a deep moan.  His mouth was so warm, and his tongue was wet and perfect at it lapped over her harden bud.

He then switched side.  He enjoyed the sounds she made; he was pulling the sounds from her.  He felt smug knowing now he was the only one that would make her make those noises after tonight.

Natasha's hands moved through his hair, tugging on it as she groaned.

Barton smirked against her skin, he has never seen her like this and it was an incredible turn on to know she was responding like this to  _him_. He moved his free hand to her panties and quickly pulled them off. Once she was fully naked he moved back and looked her up and down.  She looked beautiful all laid out for him, flushed and panting for breath.

“Pants and boxers off. Now,” she demanded.  She didn't want to be the only one naked.

Clint smirked at her blunt statement, but got up and quickly discarded himself of his remaining clothing. He crawled back over Natasha, now skin against skin and it felt incredible to have Natasha this close to him without any restriction.  He started to caress her body again, this time moving his hand lower and lower. He slipped one finger over his wet folds, groaned as she bucked in response.  He dipped the finger in, slowly teasing his lover before pushing in the digit completely.  It wasn’t long before she was begging for another.  “Fuck, you're so wet, Natasha," he groaned, pushing a second finger in.  He cock twitched in excitement as he thought want it will be like to finally feel Natasha wrapped around him.

Natasha threw her head back.  “I'm wet for you, Barton... Always for you,” she moaned, her hips thrusting against his hand, grinding down on his hand.

Clint groaned loudly at her comment.  He grabbed her own hand and placed it on his cock.  “You make me so hard, Nat.  You don't know how many times you've walked by me and I've had to restrain myself from grabbing you and bending to over the nearest surface.  From pushing you against the nearest wall.”

“Tell me more, Barton,” she gasped. “Love hearing what you want to do to me.  What I do to you."

“Fuck.”  The agent groaned, he was so turned on and telling Natasha about his fantasies only made him harder.  “So many times after missions, I've had to take care of myself in the shower just because of how you look in that your suit. I can't stand when that prick Smith flirts with you during fight drills. It makes me want to stalk over there and kiss you until he gets the point.  And when you worked for Stark, so many times I almost went over there just to show him who you belong to."

“You should have.  You should have thrown me on his desk and taken me. You should have made me forget my name.”  She grinned, stroking him gently.

If possible, Clint got even harder at her words and quickly increased the pace of his fingers.  “Oh, I'm going make you forget your name. I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll be limping tomorrow.”

“Shit, Clint,” she gasped, stroking him faster.

Clint groaned and responded by sliding a third finger, using his thumb to play with her clit.

“What's your biggest fantasy about me?” she wondered.  She ran her hand down her lover’s length, rubbing her thumb over the head, spreading the precome around.

Clint gritted his teeth as her grip tightened around his base.  Fuck, she was a little tease.  He had to think for a moment to collect his thought.  He knew his deepest fantasy about Nat.  It was the one he went to most times he needed release.

“You're working for Stark-” his voice was gruff and thick with lust “-and I come to visit you.  You’re wearing that tight, short leopard dress.  We are in your office or his; I bend you over the desk, taking you fast and hard.”  He gaps when Natasha’s hand becomes a tight vice around his member, sliding up and down in firm strokes.  He can feel several beads of sweat roll down his temples.  “We don't care about the security cameras filming us or the people working just outside the door.  We know Tony is watching us, but that adds to the fun; put on a show for him.  You scream my name so loud that everyone on that floor hears and knows who you belong to.”  He begins to pump his fingers faster and rubs harder on her clit as he thinks about his fantasy.

Nat threw her head back with a scream as she felt her orgasm come over her. It was intense, best she'd had in a long time, maybe ever.

“That's it baby, come for me,” he demanded has he pumped his fingers a few more times.

Her hips rolled up as she shook, murmuring his name. “God, Clint...”

He quickly kissed her as he slid his fingers out.   The woman lies limply on the bed for a moment, panting and sweating.  Her hair is a mess of curls spread over the pillows. 

As soon as Natasha’s recovered he positioned himself at her entrance, but paused.  He didn't have a condom and, though he was clean and knew Natasha was, he knew he needed to ask.

“It’s fine.  I can't get pregnant, remember?” she murmured, a frown crossing her lips.

Clint mentally kicked himself.  How could he have forgotten?  “I'm sorry,” he whispered in her ear, stroking her damp hair back.  He gave them a moment before positioning himself again.

Without a word, a tear trickled down Natasha's cheek. Clint kissed it away before slowly entering her.

He groaned at how wet and tight she was.  “God, Nat!  You're tight.”  He struggled to stay still and let Natasha adjust to his size.

She moaned loudly, dropping her head back as her hands gripped his back.

Clint took that as a sign to start moving. He began slowly, but as their moans increased he picked up the pace.  Natasha moved her legs, hooking them around Clint’s hips. 

She gasped loudly when Clint slid in deeper, hitting that spot that made her scream. Natasha was a screamer naturally, so it wasn't surprising that she was even louder with Clint thrusting into her like that.  “Clint...”

“That's right, baby,” Clint coaxed.  “Scream my name. Let everyone know who is making you feel this good.”  He grunted, snapping his hips up again, hitting that spot that had made Natasha arch up so beautifully.  “Ugh, Natasha, you feel so good.”  He moved his hand between them, finding Natasha clit.

She spread her legs even more, letting him get even deeper inside of her. He was so hard and it made her moan loudly. His name fell from her lips again.

“Ugh, god Natasha you feel so good.”  Clint could feel himself getting close, but he wasn't going to let himself come until Natasha did.

Natasha felt that familiar feeling coil in the pit of her stomach.  Heat built up and her thighs shook as she felt her pleasure build.  She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling herself give in as she cried out, digging her nails down his back,

Clint thrust faltered for a moment as Natasha came, clenching down around him.  He let out a low groan and gave a few more firm thrusts before he gave into his own release

“Fuck, Nat!” he screamed as he gave a few final thrust before collapsing onto Natasha.

Her body went limp beneath him as she panted, closing her eyes.  “Shit, Barton...”

Clint, not wanting to crush her under his weight, rolled off her with his remaining strength.  “My sentiments.  Jesus... Nat... That—fuck—that was great,” he said and he turned to look at the red-headed woman lying next to him.

She smiled softly at him.  “Yeah, it was. God, Barton... You really know what you’re doing.  Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Clint lightly chuckled, and wrapped an arm over her waist, pulling her to his side.  “Course I do.”  He kissed her damp forehead.”

Natasha curled up to him, pressing her body back against his.  “Mmm,” she hummed and let her eyes flutter shut.  They probably should clean up, but she was too content to move.

The archer tightened his hold around her.   Now that he finally had Natasha Romanoff he didn't want to let her go.

“I'm glad we did this.  Took us long enough.”  She smiled, settling her head against Clint’s shoulder.

Clint returned her smile and ran his hand over her bare arm.  “You are the only one for me Nat,” he said looking down at his lover who just opened her eyes again.

“The only one?”  She arched a brow and smirked crookedly.

“The only one,” he affirmed.

“I love you,” she whispered, tipping her chin up to kiss him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, stroking his finger over her cheek.

“Christ... what have you done to me?” Natasha sighed with a smirk and settled back down in her lover’s hold.

Clint grinned at her statement.  It seemed as if he has softened the deadly Russian assassin.

Turning to lie with her back to him, she wrapped his arms around her.  “Night, Barton.”

Clint pulled her back against his chest, linking his hand with hers.  He kissed her necks one last time before whispering, “Goodnight, Natasha.” 

Nat fell asleep quickly, humming contentedly as she nuzzled into his arms.  Clint followed just as quickly with a small smile on his lips. He finally had Natasha Romanoff.


End file.
